Death Wish
by Midnightzstorm and Kedavra
Summary: After the events of HBP, Snape feels guilty. Depressed and suicidal, he wishes that he had never existed. A talisman grants the wish, and Snape is forced into a strange alternate universe where everything and everyone has changed.
1. Prologue

Death Wish

Author's Note: So Kedavra and MidnightzStorm are back again! After going through our old stories cringing through the cliché plots, grimacing at the lack of proper grammar and laughing at the use of Backstreet Boys lyrics, we decided to redeem ourselves. We have grown so much since the time when we decided to spell the word 'too' with the number '2'. We hope you enjoy what our matured selves have written. We are extremely proud. The concept for this story was taken from a plot bunny on and the plot was inspired in part by Episode 3.09 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, "The Wish".

Prologue

Severus Snape had never considered himself a nervous man.

But now, as he paced around the gigantic foreboding mouth of the cave, he could feel every part of him shaking. His long, pale fingers were shivering with anxiety as he pressed them fervently on his burning forearm.

He had been summoned by the Dark Lord just minutes ago and apparated to the secret home of He Who Must Not Be Named immediately. But the Dark Lord, in his infinite desire to inflict fear in even his faithful followers, had a penchant for making people wait.

It had been a mere day since Snape had faced the one man who trusted him completely, and Snape had betrayed him. The memory still burned on his mind, far stronger than the Dark Mark that burned on his arm. He knew not whether the Dark Lord had summoned him here to praise or to punish him for his actions. He was not the one his master meant to murder Dumbledore, but there had been no choice after the Unbreakable Vow he had made to Narcissa and the promise he had made to Dumbledore himself.

"Snape," called a high-pitched wheezing voice from the mouth of the cave.

Snape stopped pacing and looked around. Peter Pettigrew stood at the entrance of the Dark Lord's lair.

"He will see you now," Pettigrew informed Snape. The smallest smug smirk had slipped onto Pettigrew's face, as if he knew Snape were about to face punishment.

Drawing himself up to full height and striding past Pettigrew imperiously, Snape didn't bother to acknowledge the other man. He entered the cave appearing to have all the confidence that he truly did not possess.

Cautiously, he approached the menacing doors outside the Dark Lord's throne room. He pressed the tip of his wand onto the door, and immediately, green lights laced across the surface of the door, alerting the Dark Lord to his presence.

"Enter," hissed a voice from inside.

Pushing aside the large doors slowly, Snape approached the towering throne and sank to his knees as soon as he glimpsed the red slit-like pupils of his master.

"Snape," the Dark Lord said in a decisively neutral tone.

"Yes, my lord?" Snape responded automatically.

"You did not follow my instructions," the Dark Lord observed. "The Malfoy boy was supposed to kill Dumbledore."

Snape sunk his head lower. Evidently, the Dark Lord was not pleased with his stepping in, and he was about to be severely punished.

"However, your interference has clearly resulted in desirable effects."

Snape raised his head in surprise, meeting the Dark Lord's eyes for the first time.

"I won't deny that you have done me a great service," the Dark Lord continued. "Dumbledore is dead, and without his guidance, the Order of the Phoenix will collapse. I suppose I should thank you, Snape."

"It is my honor to serve you, my lord," Snape replied, relief evident in his voice.

"I must admit, Snape, I had doubts about your loyalty. But the fact that you were able to destroy the strongest opponent that stood before me has brought you into my good graces. I have decided that you are to be trusted now."

"I am glad to have earned your trust, my lord."

"I have a gift for you, Snape."

Snape looked up, curious.

Raising his wand, the Dark Lord levitated an object that had been lying on the armrests of his throne. Slowly, he floated it downward until it stayed suspended motionless in midair, right within Snape's reach.

It was a talisman. He grasped it by the chain and held it at eye-level to observe it. The gem that hang from the heavy gold chain was shaped like a teardrop and small enough to fit comfortably in the palm of his hand. It was a brilliant shade of translucent green, but floating inside were a cloud of shimmering gold flecks.

"What is it, my lord?" Snape inquired curiously.

"I am not yet sure of its properties," the Dark Lord said. "But that is why I am entrusting it to you. Investigate the magical potential of this talisman and report to me when you know its uses. I suspect it may be of use in the future."

"Yes, my lord."

"You are dismissed."

"Thank you, my lord," Snape muttered as he rose slowly. As quickly as he dared, he exited the cave and apparated back to Spinner's End.

By the time he was within three meters of his front door, tears were already threatening to fall from his eyes.

Part of him wished that the Dark Lord had killed him for his actions. A man as cowardly and untrustworthy as him did not deserve to live. After all the deaths he had caused, by his hands or by his actions, he was a mass murderer.

He stumbled awkwardly into his house and collapsed into a chair by the fire. Glancing around the room, he saw an unopened bottle of fire whiskey sitting on the kitchen counter.

"_Accio whiskey_," he muttered carelessly.

Not bothering with a glass, he took a long deep swig from the bottle and savored the burning sensation as it slid down his throat.

If there was one example as a failure as a human being, he thought bitterly, it would be him. He could not come to terms with the fact that he had killed everyone he had ever loved. Lily Evans (he still could not bear to think of her as Lily Potter) was murdered by the Dark Lord on his evidence. Dumbledore had died by his own hand. He had not even been strong enough to save his mother from the constant abuse of his father.

Another swig from the bottle to dull the pain.

Snape pulled the talisman the Dark Lord had given him from his pocket.

"The lives of everyone you ever cared about," he muttered to himself. "And this is all you have to show for it."

He clenched his fist tightly around the talisman, and he let the guilt wash over him. Faces floated through his mind as though intent on haunting him and pointing out his many failures. Through haze of people, he could even spot the accusatory face of Sirius Black. The childhood grudge seemed so petty now, and Snape understood that his goading words had sent Black to his death.

Snape upended the bottle into his mouth, drinking as deeply as he could.

Coughing, he struggled to focus his vision. The bottle was already almost completely empty.

Perhaps, he thought viciously, things would have turned out better in this world if Severus Snape had never existed.

He took another swig, finishing the last of the whiskey.

Yes, all the people he had killed, the Dark Lord he had helped rise to power. They would all have survived had he never been born, never been given the chance to make the mistakes that he made. Quietly, through the quickly approaching haze of the alcohol's effects, Snape whispered to himself, "I wish I had never existed."

In response, the talisman still clenched in his fist erupted in a blinding flash of light.

His fist closed on nothingness, and suddenly he felt his entire body hurtling through space. With a dull thump, he landed face first onto dewy grass and promptly lost consciousness.

Many hours later, Snape awoke, groaning as he rubbed the dirt out of his eyes. What in blazes had happened?

Dimly, he remembered drinking the bottle of whiskey in his house. But he was no longer inside; he was blinking stupidly into the early morning light.

"Must have passed out from the whiskey and forgotten," Snape muttered to himself.

Just then, another voice cut into his thoughts. "Who the bloody hell are you?" the voice asked.

Snape looked up. The rising sun framed a face he had not seen in nearly seventeen years, a face with startlingly green eyes and beautiful red hair: the face of Lily Evans.


	2. Chapter 1

Death Wish: Chapter 1

Disclaimer: We do not own Harry Potter, duh.

Author's Note: I don't know if there is anything to say except: please review!

* * *

She was not the Lily that he remembered and pictured in his mind every night right before he fell asleep.

Her once freely flowing wild strands of red hair had been cut short and kept tamed. Fine lines had begun to etch their ways into the corners of her eyes, and a hardened look rested comfortably upon her face as if years of turmoil had changed her. But her eyes were still the same brilliant shade of green that he remembered, still held the same warm, inviting expression as though she knew there was good in the world, good in everyone.

But it was impossible.

Lily Evans had died nearly sixteen years ago. She had no business wandering around, aged or not. Snape must have imagined it was her. It must be some other woman. Some woman with the exact same colour eyes… the exact same face… the exact same brilliant red hair…

"What are you doing outside my house?" snapped the witch in a very un-Lily-like manner. "I asked you who you are. Answer me."

He shook his head, attempting to clear thoughts of Lily from his mind, but quickly discovered this was a bad idea. It felt as though the pounding headache had rolled itself into a large boulder and bashed about around his skull whenever he moved. He groaned and gingerly propped himself up on his arms, trying not to tilt his head as he raised himself up.

Suddenly, without warning, the strength left his arms and he collapsed back onto the ground. The force of the contact knocked the wind out of him.

"Oof," he said very intelligently.

She gave him a pitying look and inwardly he cursed himself for seeming like such a weak fool. He could handle himself. Hadn't he experienced much worse from the Dark Lord's punishments? What an utterly stupid and complete failure.

"Are you all right?" the witch asked, shifting her tone entirely, now sounding concerned. She bent down and touched his arm in an effort to help him up.

The instant her fingertips grasped his arm he knew it was her. There was no mistaking the blind kindness, the warm acceptance. This was definitely Lily Evans. But how?

A million questions flooded his mind, but he could not process them. He simply relished her touch on his arm. Maybe there was a bright side to looking like a stupid failure.

"Lily!" bellowed a voice from behind them. A man with ridiculous black hair that stuck up awkwardly in the back was jogging across the lawn toward them.

Snape's expression soured immediately. Then again… maybe not.

"This man's not well, James," Lily explained to what Snape could only assume was a middle-aged James Potter. "He needs some help."

His pride suddenly awakened and trumped his elation at being near Lily again. Viciously, he shook his arm free of her hand.

"I'm fine," he spat. "I don't need your pity."

She looked a little affronted, and drew closer to James. He pulled a protective arm around her waist and said in an undertone, "Lily, I think it's best if we just let him be. Best not to trust anyone nowadays."

Snape had no idea what James meant by this, but he managed to push up onto his knees and straighten his body.

Immediately, his body objected to this motion by vomiting profusely.

"_Scourgify_," Lily said calmly, not the least bit disgusted. "We've got to take him inside, James. He's in no state to be left out alone."

Without waiting to hear an argument from her husband, she waved her wand at Snape and he felt a wave of warmth wash over him, calming his nerves and his still-churning stomach.

Lily bent over, seized his arm and pulled him to his feet. She guided him firmly and swiftly across the lawn and into the front door of the Potter's house.

Gently, with grudging help from James, they laid Snape down on the couch. Snape slid onto the pillows with a groan and covered his eyes with his hand. Even the moderate sunlight that peaked in through the shades of the living room windows seemed a thousand times too bright.

Vaguely, he could hear Lily and James having an argument about him in low voices.

"It's not safe, Lily," James whispered (too loudly, in Snape's opinion. He had rather enjoyed not having to hear Potter's voice in the last 17 years). "This man could be anyone."

"I don't know," Lily murmured absentmindedly. Was he imagining it, or were her eyes studying his features very carefully?

"He seems so familiar somehow," she offered vaguely.

James did not look happy to hear this.

Snape shifted uncomfortably. A lump in the couch was sticking into his back. At least, this was what he told himself as he turned to face the Potters, hoping to see more of Lily. He didn't know how he had ended up here with them, but he wasn't going to pass up the chance to watch her again.

"Mum? Dad?"

Footsteps came thumping down the stairs. A teenage boy appeared at the entrance to the living room.

Oh wonderful, Snape thought to himself looking at both James and Harry. There's two of them.

"Into the kitchen, Harry," James said immediately, ushering his son out of the room. "I want a word with you."

"Wassamatter?" Harry asked dully. "Who's that?"

Snape felt vaguely insulted. He had spent the last six years of his life undermining the Potter brat's experience at Hogwarts. Surely he deserved to be remembered for that.

"Your mum's taking in a stray," James muttered to Harry.

Vivid anger, born from years of hatred, burst clearly into Snape's mind. He could not wait until he was well enough to hex both the Potters so thoroughly that they could barely move. He stared blearily at their receding backs as they left the living room. He could tell that they had the same ugly hair that stuck up ridiculously in the back.

He had never been able to work out what exactly about that was supposed to attract girls.

"Rest up," Lily said from somewhere above him. "I'm going to brew you a potion that should help you feel better."

She raised her wand and renewed the charm she had performed on him earlier. He felt that familiar wave of warmth wash over him again. He closed his eyes and settled into the couch, grateful for the respite from the grating voices and incessant glares of the Potters. As he drifted off into a peaceful sleep, he saw her face as it was now: aged, different, but still perfect.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Snape awoke to the sound of voices arguing.

He didn't bother to open his eyes. He could catch Potter's forceful and brutish tone and Lily's kind, gentle speech.

"James Potter, if you don't stop being a prat I'm going to smash that wireless into pieces. Let's see you listen to your precious Quidditch broadcasts then."

Snape smiled smugly to himself. Perhaps she wasn't gentle, but he could get used to this.

His mind had become clearer after his rest. Things were starting to fall in place now, as if some invisible wall had been removed. His unfocused mind had been ignoring the implications of the events from the last few hours because they were too bizarre. However, the more of these strange events he recalled and considered, the more difficulty he had understanding why these things were happening.

Why were Lily and James still alive? Why did no one seem to recognize him? How had he gotten here? Where is exactly was 'here'? One thing was for sure, something about the world had seriously changed.

He sat up on the couch and rubbed his temples with his fingers. He needed to work out how these things had happened, why the world had become so different. Everything had begun to go strangely when he had first seen Lily. What had happened before that? He had been drinking. He must have blacked out…

The talisman! The thought burst with sudden clarity into his mind. The last thing he remembered before losing consciousness was holding the talisman in his hand. He stretched his memory, struggling to fight the foggy blanket that the alcohol had placed on his recollections.

He could vaguely picture a blinding flash of light and a furious dizzying sensation, although he had no idea how these things had found their way into his mind.

Lily had come back into the living room now. Her threat about Quidditch had evidently ended the argument with James at least temporarily.

"How're you feeling?" She asked him, seeing that he was awake.

"Better," he replied shortly.

"What's your name?"

He stared at her blankly.

"Don't you know me?" he asked.

"Should I?" she questioned.

He closed his eyes; all of this thinking was giving him a headache. He tried to get up, but just ended up falling on the floor, the sleeve of his robes upward, revealing his left forearm. He quickly tried to cover the mark on his arm, but it was too late.

"The Dark Mark!" James exclaimed. With impossible speed, he leapt up from the table and drew his wand, training it firmly at Snape.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"_Stupefy!_" James cried.

But Snape too had already drawn his wand. He deflected the curse easily. It took all of his self-restraint to stop himself from firing an Unforgivable back. Somehow, he felt that killing this Not-Supposed-To-Be-Alive-James was probably not a good idea. So instead, he flipped his chair over and fled the kitchen in a swish of black robes.

He could feel Potter in close pursuit as he blasted their front door open in an effort to escape. Barging through the opening he had created into the fading daylight, he had a mere second to contemplate his next move. It seemed cowardly, but running away was probably his best bet. He trained his wand on himself and apparated to the first safe place that came to mind.

_Pop!_

A squeezing sensation and the Potters' grassy front lawn disappeared. It was instead replaced with the winged boars and the great gates that opened into the Hogwarts grounds.

Somehow, despite everything that had happened in the past few weeks, it was still Snape's first instinct to go to Dumbledore.

Perhaps if the Potters were still alive, then Dumbledore would be alive as well. In any case, Hogwarts had always been his safe haven.

He approached the wrought-iron gates with caution, peering in for any visible signs of change. It was a strange world that he had been thrown into, and he did not want to alarm anyone else who might not recognize him. He wasn't eager to repeat the running-away-from-old-rivals experience. It didn't sit well with his self-respect.

One hand on the gate, he drew his wand and uttered the spell that would unlock it. Nothing happened.

Snape frowned and tried again. The familiar streak of red light that usually caused the gates to swing creakily open issued from his wand, but the gates themselves remained firmly shut.

"Well that's not a good sign," Snape muttered to himself.

Suddenly, something or someone barreled into him and tackled him to the ground. His wand was knocked unceremoniously from his hand and rolled across the grass several feet away from his outstretched arm.

One of his attackers pulled his arms roughly above his head and pinned them there with a freezing charm. He felt the painful pressure of a heavy boot pressing rather unnecessarily on his wrists.

The other attacker forced a hand roughly onto his face, pushing it into the ground. Snape managed to turn his eyes enough to catch a glimpse of the person hovering over him.

His assailant had fiery red hair and an unseemly splotch of dirt on his abnormally long nose.

_You have got to be kidding me_, Snape thought to himself.

Ron Weasley pressed one hand against Snape's face, keeping it painfully smashed against the ground. The other hand hovered over him, forcing the point of a wand menacingly downward.

"Who are you?" hissed Ron.

Frankly, Snape was getting very annoyed of hearing that question.

"My name is Severus Snape," he said, his voice slightly muffled by the grass.

"What business do you have with the Dark Lord?" Ron demanded.

Snape temporarily stopped struggling, shocked at this turn of events. The question about the Dark Lord could only mean one thing:

Hogwarts had been taken.

* * *

_Sixteen years earlier…_

_An explosion of brilliant red light flooded in around the edges of the front door. The sound of dozens of pairs of trampling feet could be heard around the outside of the front door._

"_Death eaters!" Arthur Weasley whispered frantically to his wife. "Quickly, Molly! Get the children to the fireplace!"_

_A deafening blast ripped the front door from its hinges. As the cloud of smoke and dust cleared, Arthur stood at the ready, wand out, straight-backed, terrified out of his mind but willing to defend his family with his last breath._

_Molly scuffled frantically down the stairs behind him, ushering the children toward the fire place. She carried an infant boy in her arms, and he was crying in great heart-wrenching sobs, as though he knew what was coming._

"_Hush Ron," she whispered. "Get the Floo powder, Bill!"_

_The first curses came shooting over the threshold. Arthur blocked a few of them, but one hit a miniscule red-headed boy in the back.  
_

"_FRED!" shrieked Molly._

_The boy landed with a dull thump on the floor, eyes glassy and unfocused._

"_STUPEFY!" cried Arthur._

_The blast of red light was easily redirected by the lead Death Eater._

"_Incarcerous!" cried one of the flanking attackers. Twisting, writhing ropes bound his hands and feet. He overbalanced and fell awkwardly to the floor_

"_Reducto!" the first Death Eater over the threshold yelled._

_The fireplace collapsed in a heap of brick and rubble. Molly gasped in horror, but she quickly moved forward, placing herself between the Death Eaters and the children. She handed the baby to the oldest boy and drew her wand._

"_Well, well, well," the lead Death Eater drawled slowly, twirling his wand casually. "If it isn't the entire Weasley family, trapped in their own living room. If there's anything I hate more than a Mudblood, it's a bunch of blood traitors."_

"_Lucius," spat Arthur from the floor._

_The man smirked behind the mask where no one could see. "Pity that knowledge won't do you any good, Arthur."_

_With a jab of his wand and a muttered incantation, Arthur was dead._

"_NOO!" cried Molly. She began to fire spells from her wand frantically, blindly. But there were too many Death Eaters for her attacks to be fruitful. _

"_Kill them all," the leader said shortly, almost bored._

_In a series of green flashes and five dull thumps, it was all over. Silence fell, and the Death Eaters strode forward to survey their work._

_Suddenly, a piercing wail broke the silence._

"_The baby," the leader said softly. "It's a miracle that the curses missed him."_

_He approached it slowly, raising his wand and savoring the moment. He raised his wand and directed it at the baby. Then, quite suddenly, he paused. Perhaps it was the recent birth of his own son, almost the exact same age as this child that caused the leader's wand to waver momentarily, seconds before he uttered the deadly curse._

"_Halt," hissed a voice from the doorway._

_The Death Eater's hand fell to his side immediately. He turned slowly to meet the eyes of his master, who was nimbly picking his way through the dead bodies and approaching the place where the baby had fallen._

"_The child is pure," the Dark Lord said. His followers stared at him incredulously._

"_His blood is pure, and he is untainted by the traitorous ideas of his family. He could be useful."_

_The Dark Lord levitated the child from the floor and observed its face closely. He tilted his head almost curiously, observing the baby from all angles. In response, the child shrieked at the sight of the inhuman face._

"_Yes, this one will be quite useful."_

* * *

"I _said_," hissed Ron viciously. "What business do you have with my master?"

"I don't reckon he's pure, Ron," drawled a calm voice from somewhere above Snape. The boot crushing his wrists ground them even harder into the ground, and Snape couldn't help but wince in response. "Might as well just kill him and move on. Our efforts are better spent elsewhere."

The owner of the voice bent down to survey Snape's face. Snape caught a glimpse of white blonde hair, cold grey eyes and a pale, condescending expression.

"Off him and get on with it," Draco Malfoy said.

"Wait!" Snape yelled, recovering from these rather unexpected revelations. "I have the mark. Check my arm."

Glaring at him suspiciously, Draco grasped his wrist and pulled his left forearm away from his body. Pushing back the robes, he found the unmistakable skull and snake branded on Snape's flesh.

"Could be a fake," Weasley muttered.

Draco pressed the tip of his wand against the mark. Snape winced but did not cry out as he felt the mark burn on his skin and glow a brilliant shade of green.

"It's legitimate," Draco said. "Let him go."

Hesitantly, Weasley removed his hand from Snape's face and took a step back.

"Who are you?" Weasley repeated, wand still trained on Snape. "I know all of the Dark Lord's most faithful followers. How did you come to bear the mark?"

"The Dark Lord never shared the identities of all his followers with anyone," Snape said automatically.

A crooked, malicious smile graced Weasley's features. "The Dark Lord hides nothing from me. I am his most loyal, his favorite servant."

Snape had never liked the boy, and his allegiance to the Dark side was not doing anything to help Snape's opinion of him.

Suddenly something caught Snape's eye. Something green with golden flecks.

The talisman the Dark Lord had given him was hanging from Ron's neck.

"Let's take him in," Malfoy said, interrupting Snape's revelation. "Let the Dark Lord decide if he is a worthy follower."

Weasley grunted in agreement and bound Snape's hand and feet with ropes from the tip of his wand. Draco picked up Snape's wand where it had fallen and used it to float Snape ahead of them.

A flash of green light from Weasley's wand unlocked the gates that Snape had been trying to open. As he drifted over the Hogwarts grounds, Snape watched the vivid green colour of the grass grow darker and darker until the grass at the base of the castle walls shone a glossy jet-black. What had happened to make Hogwarts fall to the Dark Lord? The place that many had considered to be the safest was now the stronghold of the dark side.

Questions floated through Snape's mind as Weasley and Draco brought him through the dimly lit corridors toward the Great Hall. More Death Eaters, this time ones that he did not recognise stood guard at the door. They nodded in response to Weasley and Draco and opened the doors to the giant chamber.

Wordlessly, Weasley removed the ropes that bound his hands and legs and shoved him through the doors into almost pure darkness. They followed Snape into the room and shut the doors after entering, blocking out the only source of light. Snape was left sprawled on all fours on the hard stone floor. He heard a rustling of robes behind him as Weasley and Draco knelt down.

"Why have you disturbed me?" hissed a venomous voice from the front of the room.

A faint green light illuminated a giant throne where the staff table had once stood. Perched atop it was a shadowy figure who Snape could only guess was his master.

"We found this man lurking outside the grounds," Ron answered, raising his face toward the Dark Lord. "He claims to be one of us, but I do not recognise him."

"Bring him to me."

Snape was forced roughly forward by two pairs of hands until he was pushed onto the floor in front of the throne.

"My Lord," he had the sense to interject. "I bear your mark."

He held out his arm for the Dark Lord to inspect, hoping that his master would remember branding him with it. If the Dark Lord did not recognise him, he was as good as dead. He should know that espionage was punished above all other crimes.

The shadowy figure atop the throne bent forward to look closer at Snape's forearm. Snape could see from the corner of his vision the greed and bloodlust in Weasley and Draco's eyes as they hoped for the worst.

"It is an exceedingly convincing forgery," said the Dark Lord, "but a forgery none the less."

"No, my lord," Snape protested. "I am your faithful servant. I killed your greatest enemy, Dumbledore, for you."

Loud, maniacal laughter filled the chamber.

"That problem has long ago been dealt with, and certainly not by you. You are poor liar for a spy."

"What shall we do with him my lord?" Draco asked eagerly, tightening his grip on Snape's arm.

The Dark Lord tapped his fingers idly on the arm of his throne. "Find out what he knows," he said casually. Snape could visualize the evil smile spreading across his master's face as he said the next words. "By any means necessary."

Immediately, Weasley and Draco began to drag him out of the room. Just as they were about to reach the door, the Dark Lord spoke again.

"And when you have found everything you need to know… kill him."

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry for the long delay guys, but we're really busy with school and stuff. We hope to post another chapter really soon though. Please review! 


	4. Chapter 3

Death Wish

Chapter 3

It was good to know that all those years spent mentally preparing himself for the torture he would endure if his spy cover was blown had not been wasted. All in all he thought it could have been much worse. Evidently anyone stupid enough to be caught lurking around the Dark Lord's stronghold couldn't possibly hold any information that was all that useful. Snape recognized a session of light torture when he saw it, even if Macnair was one of the few wizards he knew who liked to combine physical beatings with spells during torture sessions.

But light torture was still torture, and by the time Snape was thrown unceremoniously into a dank dungeon cell, he was weak and weary from the pain. As the metal gate locked magically behind him and his captor's footsteps faded down the hallway, Snape crawled into a corner of the cell, eager for a chance at peace and quiet. He had been tossed from place to place for the last day and needed time to collect his thoughts. Why had he been thrown into this universe? How would he return to a world where everything was back to normal? And most of all, why did everyone in this bloody universe seem to forget who he was?

It was clear to him that this was more than just some convoluted dream. But what had triggered the shift in reality? He pressed himself to remember the last time when things had been normal. He had been drinking far too much firewhiskey, he knew that for sure, and he had been pondering the less pleasant parts of his life. There had been something strange... a blinding flash of white light. What had caused it?

The talisman, Snape realized suddenly. That strange trinket that the Dark Lord had given him must have brought him here. How else could he explain its mysterious disappearance and reappearance in the possession of Weasley? Had this been a part of his master's plan?

No, it was impossible that the Dark Lord-- so carefully calculating-- could have counted on Snape to accidentally activate the talisman in his drunkenness. Something else had thrown him into this strange place where no one seemed to know who he was. Something of his own doing...

_I wish I had never existed. _

The thought appeared unbidden in his mind, and suddenly he understood. He had thought that the world would be a better place if he had never set foot in it, and the blasted talisman must have granted his wish by throwing him into some alternate reality in which he had never existed.

If he never existed, then he never betrayed the Potters' location to Voldemort, so the entire family was still alive and well.

If he never existed, then Dumbledore should still be alive, running the resistance somewhere, pushing back the Dark Lord's forces.

That was two huge points in favor of this universe. If the world was trying to convince him that he had been helpful after all, it was doing a rather poor job of it.

He gave a hollow, humorless laugh. What good was it to show him this universe?

"Going mad on your first day, mate?" said an irritatingly familiar voice from the other side of the cell, "That's not a good sign."

Oh bloody hell, Snape thought to himself. Could this day get any worse? He squinted carefully through the darkness across the cell and to his absolute disgust, saw that the owner of the voice was indeed who he dreaded.

Well, that was point number three for this universe, Snape thought to himself, Sirius Black was rotting away in a dungeon. The world was indeed a happier place.

He didn't have the energy to pick a fight with Black, so out loud he simply said, "I don't see how it's any of your business."

"Just trying to hold it together," Black admitted. "I'm not doing too well myself. It doesn't get any easier, only more difficult."

Well thanks, he would never have suspected that getting tortured every day made life more difficult. What wonderful powers of observation Black had.

A few moments of silence passed before Black broke them by shuffling over to Snape's corner.

"I'm Sirius," he said unnecessarily, offering his hand expectantly.

Perhaps it was something about being introduced on first name terms or the idiot's sheer persistence that struck Snape. In any case he took the proffered hand and shook it briefly, grunting "Severus," in reply.

"So Severus, what brings you to this neck of the woods?" asked Black, casually leaning against the wall as though they were not mortal enemies or, at the very least, not two random people doomed to rot away in the Dark Lord's prison.

Snape heaved a heavy sigh. He knew from experience that pissing Black off could only lead to a more annoying cell mate. Better to make conversation now, even if it physically pained him to do so.

"I was caught lurking outside the grounds," Snape answered shortly.

"Smooth move," Black said. "What on earth possessed you to do that?"

"I was recently thrown into this universe from an alternate one in which Hogwarts was still a stronghold of the Order of the Phoenix. In fact, your entire universe here is hinged on the fact that I, as a spy for the Order, never existed."

It was worth telling the truth just to see the confused look on Black's face as he blinked stupidly in the dark, trying to digest all this information.

"You really won't last long if the first day addles your brains this badly," Black finally replied.

Snape shrugged, what did he care if Black thought he was crazy?

"You're not a spy for the Order," Black said, with the unmistakable air of trying to convince a small child of something obvious.

"How would you know?"

"I'm in the Order and I've never seen you before."

Snape sighed. Some people just never give up.

"Someone will come get us out of here soon," Black promised reassuringly. "I have friends and a daughter out there looking for a way to get me out, and I'm sure people are looking for you too."

Not likely in a universe where he didn't exist, and what was this about a daughter? Black had reproduced in this world? Well, that was certainly a point against this universe. Maybe the world was better off with him after all. He had delivered them from the terror of Sirius Black, Part II.

"That's nice. I'm tired," Snape said shortly.

Black nodded and scooted away a bit to give Snape room to spread out. The last thought to cross Snape's mind before he fell asleep was that sharing a cell with Black was definitely going to be more torturous than anything Macnair could cook up.

----------------------------

It was like holding a normal job, Snape mused. He was woken up by some Death Eater in the morning, put through his paces throughout the day with healthy doses of the Cruciatus curse as well as the more traditional beating and slicing methods for flair, then dispensed back in his cell by the end of the day. He suspected that there may have simply been too many prisoners for the Dark Lord to have the manpower to be constantly interrogating all of them.

Luckily, it didn't appear that he would be executed any time soon because he was unlikely to give up the information that the Dark Lord assumed he had. It was much easier to keep secrets when he didn't have any to divulge. Where was the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix? Well, he had no clue. Who had sent him? No one. He had figured out how to wander into this hell-hole of a former school all by himself.

He was thrown back into his cell late into the next evening. Black was already there, huddled in the same corner he had been the previous night. This time, Snape was more than just a little shaky. He struggle to pull himself into a vaguely upright position and lean against the wall for support.

"I saved you some food," Black said. He held out his hand, where he was clutching a slice of stale bread, half of the standard meal that Snape had eaten earlier, but vomited up in the closing minutes of his torture session.

For a brief moment, Snape considered refusing the offer. He didn't need Black's hospitality. He could manage just fine on his own. He didn't need anyone's pity, least of all someone who had tormented him all through school.

But this Black had no signs of ill-intent in his eyes. There wasn't even the pity that Snape had expected to see. Something about the earnestness of Black's demeanor struck Snape, and he reluctantly held out a hand to take the bread from Black.

"Thanks," he grunted shortly.

It was only after he had shoved the slice hungrily into his mouth and swallowed without chewing that he paused to really look at Black by the dim light that leaked into the cell.

Black, it appeared, was of more interest to the Dark Lord than Snape was. Black's arms and legs were laced with deep cuts that looked as though someone had cast Sectumsempra on him multiple times but repeatedly healed him just enough to keep him from bleeding to death. The loss of blood led to a paleness that accented the half-formed bruises scattered across his bare skin. Snape could detect remnants of a violent twitching motion that Black was trying to hide, a sure sign of extended exposure to the Cruciatus Curse.

Black had been taken in before Snape was awoken in the morning, and it was clear from the battered shape of his body that every minute of Black's torture had been excruciatingly painful, probably worse than Snape's own.

Black gave Snape a wan smile. "You should sleep. Rest is important to holding out."

---------------------------------------

Snape had the pleasure of being escorted back to his cell the next evening by none other than Ron Weasley. Apparently Voldemort had given the boy a taste for macabre.

As Ron used his wand to drag Snape carelessly down the hall, Snape noticed again something around the young man's neck: the amulet. It was the key to this universe; he understood that now, and if he wanted to go back, he would have to force himself out of this prison wandless and face down one of the Dark Lord's staunchest supporters to retrieve it.

Could you be any more selfish Snape? He chastised himself as the thought of escape crossed his mind. He may be worse off in this universe, but Lily and Dumbledore were still alive. He didn't fancy facing down the legions of the Dark Lord alone on some fool's errand to return to a universe where things were probably worse anyway.

Suffer and hold your peace, Snape, he told himself. It's the least that you owe the world.

His thoughts were interrupted harshly as Weasley tossed him roughly into the cell. To his surprise, an evil smile wrought its way across Weasley's face as he gazed through the bars into the depths of the room. Before turning to leave, Weasley leaned casually on the bars of the cell and leered at Black, who was already curled up in his corner the cell.

"Well, well, look who's still alive," sneered Weasley. He paused a second to smirk dramatically before he spoke his next words. "Once we break you, I reckon I'll find that daughter of yours and have a go or two with her. She looks like a screamer."

Black jumped to his feet instantly at these words and clutched Weasley's robes through the bars. "Never talk about my daughter that way again, you bastard," he whispered venomously.

"And how do you plan on stopping me from there?" Weasley asked, unfazed. He whipped his wand carelessly, and a flash of light threw Black against the wall.

There was a sickening crunch as Black made impact and a soft groan as he slid to the floor. Weasley's maniacal laughter echoed off the stone walls as he swaggered away.

Snape knew there was a reason he had never liked that boy.

--------------------------------------

One thing about spending your existence in a dungeon, it's difficult to keep track of how many days had gone by. Snape could count the sleep cycles, but he could never be sure if they coincided with the actual rising and setting of the sun.

"You're not crazy are you?" Black asked one night.

"Not any crazier than you are," Snape replied curtly.

"Well, some would argue that thinking you've created an alternate dimension is a sure sign that one is a bit unhinged."

Some would argue that allowing people like you to reproduce is also a sure sign of insanity, Snape thought.

"But you've done this before, this torture thing," Black continued. "You're not imbalanced or unaware. You don't mumble nonsensical things in your sleep or waste your energy impractically while you're here." Black paused and tilted his head to one side, surveying Snape thoughtfully, "You're a completely sane person who thinks he came from an alternate dimension."

"I like to think so," Snape said.

"So it's true..."

"That would be the logical conclusion, yes."

"How is it then, in your world?"

"No better than this," said Snape bitterly.

Black paused at this, evidently taken aback. But as usually happened with him, the silence didn't last long.

"I don't believe that," Black said. "The world couldn't be much worse off than it is right now."

"Not everything is about you, Black," Snape snapped. "Just because you're stuck in prison doesn't mean that the world in general is worse off."

There was another pause, this time filled with tension.

"I never told you my last name," Black finally said.

"So?"

"So you just called me 'Black', you knew me in your other world didn't you?"

"In a manner of speaking, I suppose."

"I'm going to take a wild guess and say that we didn't really get along."

"You're not wrong."

"But I haven't done anything to you."

"Not in this world, no."

Black seemed to consider carefully what he was going to say next. "If you're really a spy for the Order, then you must have known Dumbledore pretty well."

"Yeah, so what?"

"So you should know the value of giving second chances. Dumbledore always said that everyone deserves one."

The statement hit too close to home for Snape to ignore. Black had been nothing but kind, albeit annoying, to him in this universe. If Dumbledore could give a Death Eater like him a second chance, who was he to deny Black one?

"I think you might be right," Snape said. It had never occurred to him that he would be saying those words to Sirius Black of all people.

"Anyway, this world isn't terrible just because I'm stuck in a dungeon," Black said. "We have been living under the rule of Voldemort for over twenty-five years now, and our last hope was murdered just a few months ago. The future has never looked bleaker."

"Harry Potter? I wouldn't believe all that Chosen One nonsense if I were you," Snape said sardonically.

"Harry? I was talking about Dumbledore," Black said.

"Dumbledore was murdered?" Snape asked incredulously. A horrible gut-wrenching feeling had seized his body. Was it possible that even without him, someone could have murdered Dumbledore?

"By whom?" Snape demanded.

"No one knows," Black replied sadly. "He was just found dead in his study one day. It had to have been an inside job, one of our own. There was no sign of a struggle or a forced entry."

He sighed heavily, "From there, everything fell apart. Hogwarts fell to Voldemort and his forces within a matter of days. The Order was forced into hiding. Many of us were captured trying to defend the school—"

Abruptly, Black stopped. His head snapped toward the far wall and he stared intensely at a large crack that ran down it. Snape thought he could hear a slight scratching noise from the other side of the wall in that area. Probably nothing more than a rat.

But Black seemed to think otherwise.

"Mya?" he whispered, crawling towards the wall.

"Who's Mya?" Snape asked, unnerved by Black's strange behavior.

"My daughter," Black replied absently as he reached the wall.

With a soft pop, a shaggy black dog stood where the man had once been. It placed its paws up against the wall and sniffed eagerly into the crack. Snape waited uncertainly as the dog ran its nose up and down the crevice, sniffing furiously.

Finally, Black the man reappeared. A great dog-like grin broke out over his face.

"They're coming," he said. "We're going to be free soon."


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

BOOM!

Figures that anyone coming to save Black would lack finesse.

Snape threw himself painfully to the floor of the cell, away from the debris and rubble that was flying through the air. From the corner of his eye, he saw Black do the same. Flickering firelight from a torch fell across the cell as Snape peered through the newly-formed hole in the wall and saw the beginnings of an underground passage beyond it.

Reason told him that they had a minute, maybe less, before a drove of Death Eaters, and possibly the Dark Lord himself, would be upon them. The explosion could not have gone unnoticed. Already, confused mutterings could be heard down the deserted hall, growing louder and louder as Snape scrambled to gather his tattered robes about him and rush to the opening.

"Dad!" a forceful whisper came from the newly opened hole in the wall. In the darkness, Snape spotted the daughter that Sirius had mentioned. Though he could not quite make out her features clearly, a sense of dread started to grow in the pit of his stomach as he started to place where he had heard that voice before and noticed, for the first time, their rescuer's suspiciously bushy hair.

No... he thought to himself. It couldn't be.

The girl grabbed Sirius by the arm and helped him through the hole. "Mya," Snape heard Sirius gasp as he clutched onto her. "I can't tell you how glad I am to see you again."

"Shhh," she hushed as she rushed him out of the cell. "We can talk later, Dad. Right now we've got to get out as quickly as possible."

Snape was falling behind. While Mya helped Black stumble over the piles of stone that had once been the wall of their prison, his bruises and badly healed bones were not allowing him to scramble over the pile as nimbly as he wanted. His foot slipped on a particularly large stone and he fell painfully onto the pile with a loud crash.

"Severus!" Black called, wrenching himself back around immediately at the noise. He pulled back firmly on Mya's arm, almost causing her to lose her balance. "We've got to help him too!"

Snape saw Mya make a quick waving motion with her free arm, and a second shadowy figure appeared framed by the soft firelight that he was carrying. Mya's accomplice extended a hand through the opening for Snape.

"Come on," the second rescuer called. "There isn't much time."

As if he didn't already know that. Snape swallowed his sarcasm and grasped the man's hand firmly, using it as a support to scale the pile of rubble and slide somewhat ungracefully into the passage beyond. As his feet hit the dirt on the other side, the other man's torch-wielding hand shifted, and his face was clearly illuminated by the firelight.

Oh that's just embarrassing, Snape thought to himself.

Here he was, in the clutches of the Dark Lord, deep within the opposition's stronghold, and he had just needed the help of Neville Longbottom to escape. If he had eaten anything in the last day, he was sure that he would have thrown up a little in his mouth out of disgust. This had to be a new low for him.

Shaking himself determinedly out of Longbottom's grip, Snape drew himself up to his full height and looked around at his companions. Sirius was being supported by his daughter, and the Longbottom boy looked a little offended at Snape's refusal of help and had instead turned his attention toward the faint patch of night sky that could be seen at the end of the upward sloping passageway.

"No time for happy reunions yet," Longbottom said with surprising confidence and poise considering their position. "We need to overpower the guard at the edge of the grounds before they can get reinforcements to the perimeter."

They hurried down the length of the passageway to the patch of sky that Snape had noticed before. Longbottom led the way, holding the torch up high to illuminate their path. Black still clung to his daughter for support, hobbling along hurriedly behind the idiot boy, and Snape traveled under his own steam, ignoring the pain in his broken body as he struggled to keep up with the other three.

"How did you get in?" Black gasped as they stumbled through the passage.

"Your old map," the daughter replied simply. "And a little help from Uncle Reg so we could slip in when the guard changed."

Black grunted in annoyance. "Don't you jeopardize his position to help me. What if Voldemort suspects he was the one to leak information?"

"Don't be thick, Dad," she snapped. "We were careful. Uncle Reg wasn't even on guard duty tonight. Voldemort's far more likely to suspect the people who were."

Refreshingly cool night air spilled across Snape's face as they emerged from the passage. He breathed a deep lungful of it, grateful to be released from the stale stench of his cell. Bright moonlight illuminated the grounds of Hogwarts. Snape thought they could have done with a little more cloud cover for their escape, but he was glad that the full moon afforded him a clearly lit view of the dew-soaked grass, the majestic castle and the dim edge of the grounds that promised them a chance for freedom.

For the first time, he turned to look at his companions in the brightly-lit night. Longbottom he had already seen, but he noticed that Black was looking every bit as gaunt and unkempt as he had when he escaped from Azkaban three years ago, or was it never at all? But there was no slightly manic glint in his eyes, only fierce determination and the traces of deep affection as he looked at his daughter.

His daughter...

With a lurch of his stomach, Snape realized that his initial suspicions about this girl's identity were correct. She was exactly who he dreaded she would be when she first appeared to them.

She obviously did not belong to the Black family. There was no trace of the signature aristocratic features that ran in their pureblood line. The young girl's brown eyes were jaded, and her brown hair was hazardously chopped above her shoulders. No the girl was not some child Black ended up having with a drunk one-night stand, the girl was Hermione Granger. He almost felt bad for the former know-it-all.

"Granger?!" Snape asked in disbelief.

"My surname's Black," she said uncomfortably. "But how did you know I was born with that last name?"

So Black had adopted her. Snape was surprised it was legal for someone as stupid as Black to adopt. Clearly a flaw in magic law.

"Oh yeah, funny story. He's from an alternate universe. Knows all sorts of weird things about all of us. Probably was a stalker or something," Black interjected with a smirk. "But no time for chitchat now, we have to get out of here."

There was total silence for just a second. Hermione, probably used to Black's weird antics, or perhaps assuming that the torture had addled his brains, was the first to recover.

"I've got a wand for you, Dad," she said, fumbling in her robes for the thin stick of wood. "But your friend will have to keep his head down when we fight the Death Eaters on the way out."

"Oh don't worry about him. We'll share," said Black with a mischievous grin on his face.

Longbottom gave him a quizzical look, and Snape privately shared the boy's sentiments. How in blazes did Black think they were going to share a wand?

But there was no time to argue, Granger and Longbottom were already hustling them towards the boundaries. Snape tried to mentally ready himself for a fight as he followed his companions across the damp grounds, while clutching a cracked rib that had been giving him some trouble on the way out. Although the ineffectiveness of wizard apparition on the Hogwarts grounds was often thought of as a safeguard by those who controlled the school, it was also a hinderance to security. Distant shouts of orders could be heard from other entrances of the castle, but if they were lucky, they would be able to overpower the border patrol and escape before reinforcements could arrive on foot.

They would have to be extremely lucky. Snape gave an involuntary shudder as he remembered one of the capabilities of the Dark Lord. While the Death Eaters had to give chase on foot, the Dark Lord could be at the boundaries within seconds through the air. Then their bid for freedom would undoubtedly be futile.

As if in response to Snape's realization, a faintest flutter of robes whipping through night air reached their ears from overhead, and a human-shaped shadow obscured the light of the full moon briefly as it passed over them. They were nearly to the boundaries now, but fear seized Snape's heart as he stumbled toward the shadowy figures on guard at the border. They would never make it out alive if the Dark Lord himself were here.

But the figure that landed lightly on his feet in front of them was not the Dark Lord. Relief flooded through Snape as he saw who had been taught the Dark Lord's trick. It was only the Weasley boy.

"Going somewhere?" Weasley growled. Two masked Death Eaters who had been guarding the perimeter stood behind him, wands drawn and ready to attack.

"Away from you!" Hermione spat. She slashed her wand with impressive speed and sent a bright-red stunning spell at Weasley.

To Snape's absolute amazement, Weasley was quick enough to to put up a non-verbal shield spell. The stunner flew back at an angle, and Snape was forced to duck as it sailed through the air where his face had been a split second before.

Well, the Dark Lord had his faults, but he was a hell of a motivator. Snape would have thought that no force in the world would make Weasley a competent spellcaster, but then again, the Dark Lord had always been able to accomplish the near-impossible.

Dwelling on Weasley's improbable skills was not likely to do Snape any good in the situation. The battle had begun in earnest. Black had joined his daughter in dueling Weasley, and they were fighting a more or less evenly matched battle. Longbottom was occupied with the two Death Eaters stationed at the edge of the grounds. Snape was just wondering what he could do to be useful, when an animalistic growl took his mind off the other battlers completely.

A fully grown werewolf was bounding toward them, blood of an earlier kill dripping from its open mouth. From the clumps of unkempt hair and the shock of silvery grey fur on its back, Snape guessed that this werewolf was Fenrir Greyback. Wandless, he could do little to defend himself against a werewolf, but he had human intelligence on his side, and that might be enough to survive for a few minutes.

Snape waited patiently as the werewolf barreled closer and closer, staring down the yellow eyes with complete lack of emotion. Finally, mere feet from him, the wolf took a giant leap, just as Snape predicted it would. He dove out of the way and rolled along the ground. The wolf attempted to twist itself in midair and follow him, but the force of its leap had committed it to traveling straight on, and it collided with one of the masked Death Eaters dueling Neville.

"Aaargh!" the man cried as the werewolf tore into him. Greyback was not picky about his prey.

As Snape used the momentum of his dive to roll himself to his feet, he heard a hoarse voice call, "Think fast, Severus!"

He looked up just in time to catch sight of a wand spinning through the air toward him. Instinctively, he caught it in his wand hand and whirled around to face the battle again.

Black had transformed into a massive black dog and ran in the direction of the werewolf and the unfortunate Death Eater. With a forceful bite to the werewolf's neck and a toss of his head, Black pulled Greyback off the man. Infuriated at being interrupted, the wolf rounded on the dog, and the two beasts began to circle each other, each waiting for an opportunity to attack.

It was so like Black to show concern for the enemy. He had always been weak. Snape immobilized the wounded Death Eater in a few quick exchanges. The man was not one of the Dark Lord's more competent servants.

Turning to the others, he saw that Longbottom had managed to fight past the remaining guard so that he was dueling with his back to the border. The boy would be ready to run and apparate as soon as the rest were ready, but Granger was locked in a stalemate Weasley. Snape moved to help her, inserting his own spells non-verbally and forcing Weasley to give up ground.

"Lucky you've got help, Hermione," Weasley taunted. "I'd have had you long before if your Daddy hadn't been interfering."

"I can take you myself!" she insisted, firing off a spell that nearly broke through his defenses.

"Oy!" called Black's voice. "Toss it here for a moment!"

Without thinking, Snape threw the wand from his hand in the direction of Black's voice.

Immediately after the wand left his fingertips, he knew he had made a mistake. Why the hell had he just tossed Black a wand and left himself defenseless? What was he thinking?

As he dove aside to prevent Weasley's next spell from hitting its target, he saw Black with the wand trained on Greyback. The werewolf had just been knocked off his feet, and a bloodied leg was preventing it from getting back up quickly. In a flash of green light, the wolf fell with a dull thump back onto its side, never to rise again.

"Told you it would only take a moment," Black said, a tinge of hollow bitterness in his voice, as he tossed the wand back to Snape.

It seemed that Black had a ruthless streak in him after all. Snape turned the wand on Weasley once more, just as Black transformed again and leaped at Weasley, seizing the boy's wand arm in his massive jaws.

"Get off me, you mutt!" Weasley hissed. Blood was seeping through his robes around the bite. Black held on desperately as the boy shook his arm, preventing Weasley from casting any more spells.

Seizing the opportunity, Hermione sent a stunning spell right into Weasley's chest. He fell over backwards, and Black finally relinquished his hold on Weasley's arm. Transforming back into a man, Black held out his hand to Snape.

"Give me the wand, we have to apparate back to headquarters," Black said breathlessly. "Neville will take you back with him."

Reluctantly, Snape handed the wand back to Black. Despite the confidence he had seen so far in this new Longbottom, he still had serious doubts about the boy's apparition skills. If he lost half his toenails because of the boy's incompetence, he would be most displeased.

"Let's go!" Black roared.

Hermione, Black, Longbottom and Snape scrambled across the edge of the grounds, out of the apparition-free zone. Snape allowed Longbottom to seize his wrist with some trepidation. In any case, it was a better option than facing the dozens of Death Eaters now pouring out of the castle and sprinting toward them across the grounds.

In one fluid, twisting motion, they disapparated. Sight and sound extinguished as Snape felt Longbottom's vice-like grip pull him away from Hogwarts and toward what he assumed would be the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Snape found himself on a too familiar street, Grimmauld Place. Longbottom looked from him to Sirius questioningly.

"Tell him Neville," told Sirius. "I believe he is trust worthy."

Longbottom then looked at Hermione, who stood steadily by her "father's" side, as if asking for permission, she just nodded. Snape almost smirked; it seemed Longbottom still needed Granger to tell him what to do.

"The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is located at number 12 Grimmauld Place," Longbottom whispered.

However, Snape could already see the hidden building, but he did not wish to tell his companions that fact for reasons he did not know.

When the group came into the narrow hallway of the most ancient house of Black, they were met by a house elf wearing a freshly laundered towel as a toga.

"Oh, Mistress Hermione, they are not pleased with you," said the elf croakily. "But I is most please to see you safely home, Master Black."

"It's good to be home Kreacher," said Black with a small smile.

Snape did a double take on the elf; it was a better kept version of the miserable Kreacher. That would be one advantage for this reality if he actually cared for the elf.

"Where are they?" Hermione asked, looking around for a secret passage upstairs.

"They is in the dining area, young mistress," answered Kreacher dutifully. "But is probably hearing you already."

"Damn," she muttered. "Maybe if we are very quiet we could just—"

The dining room door opened dramatically to reveal four figures rushing out to them. Snape felt a pang in his heart when he saw that one of them was Lily. He quickly backed into the shadow of a nearby coat rack since he remembered half of the group still thought he was a Death Eater. He was so focused on watching her, he barely noticed that her husband and Frank and Alice Longbottom were there as well.

"Padfoot!" said James, rushing to his old friend's side and helping take him to a chair in the dining area. While Lily and the Longbottoms rounded on the two teenagers.

There was anger on Hermione's face that Snape had never seen before; it almost matched Lily's.

"Now you care," she muttered.

"What on Earth were you thinking?" Lily demanded with her hands on her hips.

"I was thinking that I had to save my father," Hermione shot back.

Alice looked at her son and he quickly answered, "I just thought she could use some backup Mum. She could have gotten killed if she went by herself."

"I can hold my own, thank you very much," Hermione yelled. However, before anyone could retort, an audible groan came from Sirius. Hermione rushed over to him, pushing Lily and the Longbottoms forcibly out of the way.

"Out of the way Potter," she said to a boy Snape hadn't noticed was there before. She knelt down next to Sirius and started to check his wounds.

"They were right, Mya, you shouldn't have come," said Black softly, "The Order can't afford to lose anymore people."

"You would have come for any of them," she protested looking around the room. "You would have come if it were me."

He smiled, knowing she was right. "Yes love, but no one else is that stupid, especially you."

She laughed and hugged her father, when they parted Black looked around and asked "Where is Severus?"

Snape stepped out of the shadows and was met by three wands pointing in his direction. Both Potters and Lily had their wands trained at his chest.

"Sirius have you gone completely daft? You let a Death Eater into headquarters," said Potter. At these words Frank and Alice drew their wands as well.

"He is no Death Eater," said Black, trying to stand up.

"He has the Dark Mark!" said the younger and possibly more stupid Potter.

"We shared a cell together," said Black. "He is no friend to Voldemort. I know he is trustworthy. He helped me stay sane in that forsaken hell hole."

Slowly the wands were lowered, but all eyes remained on Snape.

"Why does he have the mark then?" said stupid Potter Senior.

"It's complicated..." said Black looking at Snape.

"I'm from a different reality," Snape explained shortly.

"Well, if you put it that way, it's not," said Black, rolling his eyes.

"You got to be kidding me, Padfoot," Potter snorted, his hand back on his wand handle.

"No, I'm totally Sirius," Black said, pausing obviously waiting for laughter, but to be met with groans.

"Dad, that got old fifteen years ago," Hermione chided.

"Fine fine, but I know he's telling the truth because he knows a lot of creepy stuff about us."

"Oh yeah, that would describe someone from an alternate reality... you know what else that would apply to? A spy!" said Potter, obviously seconds away from pulling out his wand again.

Black wasn't wavering in his insistence on Snape's innocence, but he could come up with no more logical reasons to convince his friend either. He could only look helplessly at Snape as an awkward silence filled the room. The others wavered in tense irresolution, unsure of whose side they believed Snape was on. Snape was forcibly reminded of the first time he had seen Dumbledore stand up for him to members of the Order and insisted that he was innocent. Of course, Dumbledore had been more convincing than Black, but Dumbledore had a way to get people to trust.

"When you were little, you loved playing on the swings," Snape started, keeping his eyes trained on Lily's green ones. "Even before you started showing signs of magic, you felt like you were flying when you swung."

She was staring at him like she had never seen anything quite like him before.

"Your favorite season is Spring because you love to watch flowers open their petals. You used to call your sister 'Tuney' before you went to Hogwarts. You were always sad that she didn't accept you for who you were, but you never let anyone else know."

The room was dead silent. Snape did not break eye contact with Lily. He stood there, unarmed, as he often seemed to be with her, and waited nervously for her verdict. She could make or break him with her reaction, but this had never been a new feeling for him.

"How could you know those things?" she asked softly. "I haven't thought or said those things for a long time."

"I knew you," he replied. "I knew you, we grew up together. You were my best friend."

Lily had always been quick to trust people. It was one of her most defining characteristics. She had always trusted him and given him the benefit of the doubt. He remembered the times she had stood up for him when they were friends, when she had refused to believe the rumors about his digressions into the Dark Arts, when she defended him against his many critics, and he knew that he had only to ask to earn her loyalty again.

"Do you trust me?" he addressed her and no one else. Everyone in the room seemed frozen in place, waiting for Lily to make the decision.

She bit her lip as she always did when she was thinking hard.

"Yes," she said at last. She smiled nervously at him.

He returned her smile immediately. It was the first real smile that had appeared on his face for a while, but he knew it was worth it. It was more than he could ever had asked for, to be given a second chance with Lily. He would never have dreamed that this was possible.

However, his feeling of elation was short-lived. Lily moved to place a hand on her husband's arm, guiding his wand back into the pocket of his robes. Potter was looking dumbfounded, as though he couldn't quite believe what had just happened. Finally, with his wand safely stowed away, and his wife at his side, he extended a hand to Snape.

"I don't think we got off on the right foot," he said, regaining some of his usual cocky composure. "I'm James Potter."

Snape hesitated for a split second. It appeared that a second chance with Lily meant a second chance with Potter as well. Snape knew that Lily was worth it, but the thought of being friendly with Potter churned his stomach. Ignoring the feeling of disgust mounting inside him, he shook Potter's hand firmly.

Snape was "introduced" to the other members of the room. Frank and Alice Longbottom seemed to be perfectly sane. Of course, Snape thought to himself. They had been spared the aggressions of Bellatrix Lestrange and her accomplices because the Dark Lord had never fallen. The younger Potter was almost exactly like his usual annoying self, cocky and overconfident, but he did not seem to be on good terms with Hermione. In fact, the girl seemed to be using any opportunity she had to throw him looks of purest loathing.

"Stop looking at me like that, Hermione," stupid Potter junior hissed at her. Snape, in the process of shaking Frank Longbottom's hand, could not help but eavesdrop intently.

"You deserve it, Potter. You're a precious little mama's boy who wouldn't risk his neck to help out someone who has saved your life quite a few times. Coward," she spat.

Snape saw the younger Potter turn bright red at her words.

"Don't you call dare call me that, Hermione. If you had told me you were going, you know I would have come with you."

"You should have suggested it yourself! All you did was stand there and look at your feet when the adults decided it was 'not worth the risk' to save him."

"You should have told me what you were planning. What if you had been injured or killed?"

"I was fine. I had Neville with me, and he volunteered to come without me asking. Besides, if I had been killed, what do you care? I'd have been just another casualty that wasn't 'worth the risk.'"

Snape had already moved on to shake Alice's hand at this point, but he saw, out of the corner of his eye, the younger Potter stare glumly at the floor, unable to come up with a retort.

In retrospect, Snape supposed he should have noticed that it was strange for the Potter brat to not be a part of their rescue brigade. He had always wanted to play the hero before. In fact, Snape remembered when Potter had gone recklessly chasing after some wild dream he had about Black only a year ago. Perhaps living with his parents had cured the boy of his hero complex. Snape certainly hoped so. That was guaranteed to make the world a more enjoyable place.

"I'd like a bit of rest, if you all don't mind," Black said, when the introductions were over. "And I think that Severus could probably use some as well."

Snape nodded affirmatively. Hermione and James helped Black up the stairs and to his bedroom. The Longbottoms had started to huddle together in a corner of the dining room, obviously about to begin a family discussion on their son's reckless behavior.

"Are you ok to walk?" Lily asked Snape.

"Of course," he replied, although his body was protesting strongly. The adrenaline from the battle to escape had worn off, and he was beginning to feel the full pain of throwing his heavily-injured body around.

"Follow me then, Severus," Lily said. "I'll show you to a guest room."

As he hobbled after her, he saw the younger Potter hesitate, probably torn between curiosity about the strange newcomer and a desire to apologize to the Black girl. In the end, the boy hurried up the stairs before his mother, hoping to catch up with the others.

Distracted by watching the Potter boy's antics, Snape stumbled slightly on the first stair. He was just trying to arrange his unresponsive body in a manner to cushion the fall, when he felt a strong pair of hands catch him. He looked up into a pair of emerald green eyes.

"Too proud to ask for help from a girl, eh?" Lily said with a smile.

He didn't return her smile. Stupid to show such weakness to her. He always seemed to be stumbling all over himself in this reality. He hated needing her help.

"I was distracted," he said simply as he regained his footing. "It won't happen again."

She appeared taken aback by his curt response. That slightest recoil triggered a memory in Snape, a memory of how they had begun to fall apart. It had started when he began dabbling in Dark Magic. She would withdraw slightly whenever he talked about it, and he would ignore it, thinking that she would come around eventually. The older they grew, the more often she would recoil at his actions, failing to defend her to his new friends, criticizing her muggleborn acquaintances. She always recovered with a biting comment in return, but this time around, he knew better than to let her get too annoyed.

She had already opened her mouth to speak, probably to tell him that she might have known him in another universe, but he could sleep on the stairs if he was going to be rude, and she would take those creepy elf heads off the wall and hang them right over him so that he could have a good scare when he woke up.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "I've had a rough day. Could you help me up the stairs, please?"

He held out his hand to her a little nervously. He had never been very good at apologies.

But as she took his hand, he started to believe apologizing might be worth it.


End file.
